Letting things go

Another prose poem.  These are growing on me....

Letting Things Go
 
I carry a white, 1940’s lamp to the car. Mama would
not approve. She’d keep the lamp and tell another
long story. Unsteady, as she was in mind and body,
she’d never call it junk. These things now belong to
me, so I go back and forth to the car with skillets,
scarves, stool, books. I hear Mama say, In all my 
years, I never…, but I open the trunk of the car like
I’d open a gate to let cows out to pasture. I free 
whatever I can. The Salvation Army store in town is 
where a man or woman will find these treasures and 
smile, perhaps lift the iron skillet and take grateful 
breaths. This letting go thing works for me, too. It’ll 
make room for a ceramic bowl, walking stick, a new 
tower of books, or something else I don’t need but 
buy anyway. Of course I’m on edge about letting 
things go—they remind me of home, and Mama won’t 
shut up in my head!

I loved the image of letting Mom's things out to pasture! And I loved the thought that someone else will treasure the things your mom did too. One thing threw me off. When you said you would make room to buy things, I had expected to read that you were gonna keep some things of your Mom's. I thought the cerematic bowl, walking stick, new tower of books was your mom's until I read "buy."
I'm gonna hop onto my laptop to reread this. The format is thrown off on my phone.

Renee, maybe I need to clarify.  Of course I kept things.  Hmmm.  Good point.  
This is a prose poem.  It just runs like prose, but near the end, there should be some new step (in a dance), something strong.  And of course, there's a poetic here and there, but not so much that it takes over. 
I'll think on this.  I can say two or three things I hold near and dear that I do not give up.
Open to any suggestions.
Pat

Pat,

All that I read about prose poetry is that it is prose (no line breaks by the author) and it is poetry (contains all the elements of poetry save line breaks).

Here is my version of your work:

Letting Things Go
 
I carry her white, 1940’s lamp to the car. Mama would not approve. She’d keep the lamp and tell another long story.  I hear Mama say, In all my years, I never . . ., but I open the trunk of the car like I’d open a gate to let cows out to pasture. I free whatever I can. 

These things now belong to me, so I go back and forth to the car with lamps, skillets, scarves, stools, books.
  
The Salvation Army store is where a man or woman will discover these treasures and smile, perhaps lift the iron skillet and take grateful breaths. 

This "letting go" thing works for me, too. 

It’ll make room for a ceramic bowl, a walking stick, a new tower of books, or something else I don’t need . . . but buy anyway.
Of course, I’m on edge about letting some things go—they remind me of home.   And Mama won’t shut up in my head.

***

I especially like "Metals, Metals"  https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/prose-poem

Todd

I found it both ways, Todd, in the Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Prose Poetry ed by Gary McDowell and Daniel Rzicznek. I found it blocked by some poets, paragraphed by others. Paragraphing is easier for me, but I can see why some journals would choose blocked for publication purposes.  (Fewer characters in a line.) Blocked and paragraphed seem equally used in this book of 34 essays on the prose poem and 66 poems. One poet says those who block it call themselves "blockheads".  Bob Hicok  says he naturally writes in blocks (I struggle with the right margin justification thing.) So like you suggested last month, I can write it in long line and paragraph it, but I wound up breaking it into a block after I had paragraphed it.  Why? I don't know.  Maybe I'm a blockhead! I don't know.  What I'm thinking is that the prose poem moves quickly, and it may not matter if it is long lines in 3 paragraphs or short lines in a block.  It has its own engine and has poetics as opposed to straight prose. Beckian Fritz Goldberg does blocks and paragraphing. I sort of like having the option of either, maybe.  Something draws me to it. And I like the poetics in it, of course.  

Thanks for the resourcing. And the rewrite.  I want to learn this and I'm reading prose poems I will look more closely in the morning. The weather here is erratic and water is rising, of course.  So I'm shutting down for now.

He called himself "Little Mr Prose Poem".  Eleven books of it.  He counts.  Someone called him the Godfather of Prose poetry.  Gosh, eleven.  He is a forerunner.  Got it.  I read some of his poems before getting this book on prose poems.  He counts.  

I like his engine.  It runs hard and fast.  Then boom.  

Thank you for reminding me of him.  I agree.  His way counts.

For mobile use, I like the paragraph better, but I'm sure there's times that the poet would lean toward the blocks. Thank you both for talking so much about what prose poetry is. I really learned, and I like the idea. I may need to try my hand at it!